Alexander's Bed
by Kizzykat
Summary: Hephaestion is feeling melancholy


Alexander's Bed by Kizzykat

Hephaestion had been lying on his back on Alexander's bed and he rolled onto his side with a small groan. He was not as limber as he had been ten years ago. A strenuous life had built the muscle of a man in his prime and hardship, wounds and injuries had taken their toll. He did not move as freely as he once had.

"What's wrong?" Alexander asked. He was sitting propped against the head of the bed, scanning a scroll he was holding. Hephaestion was lying diagonally across the bed, and they had been reading Euripides Alcestis together on an wet autumn afternoon in Ecbatana.

"I'm getting old," Hephaestion answered distantly. "My back aches." He sounded out of focus as though his mind were not really present. His head was close to Alexander's thigh but he was facing the foot of the bed so that Alexander could not see his face.

Alexander made an amused sound, knowing exactly what he meant. "At the grand old age of thirty-two?"

He thought that Hephaestion sounded as if he were about to fall asleep and he continued reading the scroll. He had not fully understood a passage in the play and was re-reading it to make sure it meant what he thought it did.

"If you wanted to fuck me," Hephaestion said, still in that same remote tone, "I don't think I could manage anything but flat on my stomach." He shifted himself and laid his head on Alexander's chiton-clad thigh, bringing his hand to rest on Alexander's knee.

There was a pause and Alexander laid his scroll down. He looked at Hephaestion, trying to determine his mood from what little he could see of his face.

"Do you want me to?" he asked quietly.

"What?" Hephaestion answered absently, rubbing his hand slowly up Alexander's thigh and brushing the hairs up the wrong way.

"Fuck you."

"No, I don't think so," Hephaestion answered mildly, still not turning around. "My body is not as tender and juicy as it once was. I don't want to spoil our memories."

"Look at me," Alexander said softly.

Obediently, Hephaestion rolled over so that his head was resting against Alexander's groin and Alexander could look down into his face. Hephaestion's hair fell back from his face, exposing him fully to Alexander's gaze.

"What do you want?" Alexander asked gently. He was being very careful not to shatter this moment. These days he and Hephaestion were rarely this alone, this quiet. And it was even rarer that they were this intimate. They had not been this close since before their weddings at Susa six months ago when they had dreamt of their children growing up together.

"I don't know," Hephaestion said dreamily, his big eyes wandering over Alexander's face as he gazed down at him.

"I would do anything to make you realise how precious you are to me."

"Silly," Hephaestion said with a tiny, indulgent smile. "I do know what I want," he said. "I want my youth back. I want to be happy and carefree and unscarred."

"These scars were honourably won," Alexander said tenderly, running a finger around the big scar on Hephaestion's upper arm.

"Honourable in your service, yes" Hephaestion said. There was still no passion in his voice, which Alexander missed. "But what was it all for, Alexander? Would the philosophers call it unwarranted pride to seek to dominate others and impose our will on them?"

"The philosophers would also say, my love, that it is human nature to want to dominate. From children in the nursery, to maids in the kitchen, to warriors on the battlefield and cities, states and nations, we all seek to impose our will on others. We all seek to have our own way and make the world in our own image."

"That's true," Hephaestion said, and his eyes wandered away. Alexander sensed that this had not been the real issue.

"Are you not happy?" he asked.

"Of course I am," Hephaestion said, a little too quickly as his eyes came back to Alexander's. "I have you, I have a princess for a wife, I have more wealth than I know about, I have unquestioned power, and a great deal to keep me busy. I have everything from you."

"But..," Alexander added.

"But," Hephaestion repeated softly. "All my dreams have come true."

Alexander waited, but there was nothing more forthcoming as Hephaestion's thoughts drifted away, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused.

"Are they not what you wished for?" Alexander asked gently.

"The glory died, Alexander," Hephaestion said quietly. His eyes latched onto Alexander's. "Do you think Achilles and Patroclus felt glorious?"

"Yes," Alexander said. "They had a single focus, a single task to achieve in defeating Troy. They were not kings and rulers as we are and they did not have a myriad of concerns to exhaust them. We had a single focus: the deposition of Darius. We achieved that. Now we have so much more to achieve. We have consolidated the east, now it is time to move westward and bring the coasts of the Middle Sea under our control. There is so much wealth waiting to be tapped if trade could be free and unhindered all around the Sea."

"Are you going to leave me here?" Hephaestion asked.

"What?" Alexander asked, looking down into Hephaestion's face, bewildered.

"Did you make me Chiliarch in order to rule the Empire while you move westward?"

"No," Alexander protested, but suddenly realised that it was a very good idea. There was no one he could trust as well to act in his stead as he circled the Sea and headed back to Greece. "No," he repeated, less determinedly. Keep the army out campaigning for six months or a year at a stretch, then return to Hephaestion and civilisation. It would keep the Empire secure, the army happy, and he wouldn't be too long away from Hephaestion. It might work. Hephaestion would be so good at it and it would keep him safe.

"I've put ideas into your head, haven't I?" Hephaestion asked.

"No, no, Hephaestion, I haven't even thought about it," Alexander said. "And now's not the time to think about it. Arabia's months away, not til next summer, and Lybia not til at least the year after. We've plenty of time to decide."

Hephaestion stirred and looked away, seemingly disinterested and his expression still languid. Alexander gazed down at him, wondering how he was to mend what he had just broken.

"You are to send Craterus in the spring to be regent of Greece," Hephaestion said. "Will you instruct him to move into Italy and then join him from Carthage or Sicily? Or will you come down on Italy from the north through Spain?"

"Are you asking me to make you regent of the Empire?" Alexander asked, knowing the unspoken rivalry between Hephaestion and Craterus.

"Maybe," Hephaestion said with a tiny, almost wicked smile.

Alexander practically laughed for joy. Here was his Hephaestion again that he knew and loved. "O subtle and ambitious man," he laughed.

"That is what my enemies call me," Hephaestion said softly, his eyes enormous with sadness.

"Hephaestion, what is troubling you?" Alexander asked quietly.

Hephaestion drew a breath and held it for a moment before answering. "I seem to have forgotten what I once lived for, Alexander. That is all. I am afraid of losing you, of losing myself, my youth."

"Why, love?" Alexander asked, at a loss. "You will never lose me, you know that. And we may not be as young as we once were, but we have gained so much."

Hephaestion's gaze wandered as he seemed to search for an answer. "I am tired, Alexander," he said at last. "Mortally tired."

Tired, Alexander thought. They had done practically nothing since arriving in Ecbatana three weeks ago. He stroked Hephaestion's hair where it fell away from his face "Are you unwell?"

Hephaestion smiled and his tone brightened. "I am well. You know what we should do? Get drunk tonight. We haven't done that in a long time."

"I think the last time was about three weeks ago."

"That's long enough."

"No, Hephaestion," Alexander said, shifting slightly under the dead weight of Hephaestion against his thigh which was starting to go to sleep. "You should have an early night and rest. We can get drunk tomorrow." He smiled gently down at Hephaestion. "We'll both have an early night tonight," he said. "I can rub your back."

"Really?" Hephaestion said, a bit surprised. "No, Alexander, if I'm coming down with something and you catch it, the gossips will have the time of their lives."

"Let them," Alexander said, grinning down at him.

Hephaestion raised a hand and touched Alexander's cheek with his knuckle, tenderness softening his face. "When was the last time we had sex?" he said, his voice husky.

Alexander busied himself moving the scroll off the bed to the side table. "The night Roxane gave birth to my son," he said, his voice indistinct.

Hephaestion's face grew wistful as he searched Alexander's eyes. "He would have been almost three now," he said softly.

"Sshh, don't think melancholy thoughts," Alexander said, returning Hephaestion's gaze.

"I should like to be a father," Hephaestion said quietly with an ache in his voice that Alexander had never heard before.

"Truly?" Alexander said, delighted. "Soon, hopefully, we both will be."

Hephaestion's eyes clouded. "Drypetis is fourteen years old, Alexander."

Alexander paused, sensing something amiss. "Does she displease you?" he asked softly, unsure what to do if Hephaestion did find his wife displeasing.

"No," Hephaestion murmured.

He did not elaborate further and Alexander frowned down at him. "She will not always be a child, Hephaestion. She will be nearly a year older by the time we return to Susa."

"I know," Hephaestion said.

He raised a hand to his head and seemed to gather his resolve. "Alexander, I would not have consummated the marriage except at your insistence that I do so before some Persian rebel claimed her. I know that it was important, but I was very careful to make sure that she did not get pregnant. I do not think I could ask her to carry a child. My child." He shut his mouth.

Alexander searched his face. "Did she find you displeasing?"

Hephaestion raised his eyes to Alexander. "On our wedding night, Alexander, I saw myself through her eyes. I saw fear in her eyes, and I saw how I must appear to her innocence: old, scarred, ugly, foreign, and quite terrifying. I could not force someone who feared me, Alexander."

"Oh, my love, she does not fear you. She adores you," Alexander said, with all the love he felt in his voice. "I saw her face, Hephaestion, as you turned away when we went to say goodbye to them. She thinks you are quite, quite wonderful."

Hephaestion's mouth formed a round 'o' of astonishment as colour slowly crept into his cheeks. "Is that true?"

"Yes. I didn't say anything," Alexander said, "because I thought it mutual. You were so solicitous of her."

In a small voice, Hephaestion said, "I didn't want her to hate me."

"She doesn't hate you, my love. That was a look of pure worship. She would lie down on the ground and let you trample on her."

The colour drained from Hephaestion's cheeks. "She must have dreamt of falling in love, Alexander. I didn't think I could possibly give it to her."

"Sweet fool," Alexander whispered, touching his hair. "Have you written to her?"

Hephaestion shook his head. "I couldn't decide what I should say."

"Do it tonight," Alexander said.

Hephaestion looked up at Alexander with wholehearted love softening his eyes. He sat up, his hair billowing around his shoulders, and hooked his arm around Alexander's neck. "I love you," he whispered simply and kissed Alexander's lips.

Alexander smiled deep into his eyes and Hephaestion murmured, "You give me so much, Alexander, and I have nothing to give you in return."

Alexander laid his hand on the back of Hephaestion's neck. "You give me your heart, my love. Without your heart I would be a vainglorious, drunken braggart who thinks he's invincible, who thinks he's a god. But because I have your heart I know there is a far better man than I am in the world."

Hephaestion closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Alexander's. After a moment, he said, "I will go and write to my wife."

He kissed Alexander's cheek and moved off the bed. Alexander let him, knowing how he hated Alexander to see him with tears in his eyes.

"I'll come to your bed tonight," Alexander said, his voice warm.

"No, you won't," Hephaestion said firmly. "You will make love to pretty Bagoas, and imagine he's me fifteen years ago."

"Will I?" Alexander said seductively, with a determined cock of his head.

"Yes, you will," Hephaestion said. "I will see you at dinner."

He turned and walked towards the door, his smile fading and his face growing grave.

That evening, Hephaestion left dinner early, although everyone else was clearly set to make a night of it. He had drunk enough to feel comfortable and lazy, so he was quite happy to go and sleep when Alexander, more than half-drunk, had kept whispering to him to go and rest. Hephaestion, not wanting Alexander to become insistent, had kissed him and left, wondering at Alexander's delighted smile.

When Hephaestion reached his rooms, his servants, excited, told him that the King had left a gift for him. Hephaestion walked into his bedroom and found it full of rain-wet flowers. Astounded, he realised Alexander must have ransacked every garden in the city.

Hephaestion lay awake in his bed of flowers, listening to the distant sounds of revelry. Suddenly he laughed out loud at how ridiculous he felt, like some maiden in a leafy bower in Arcadia waiting for Apollo. Or like some corpse laid out for people to come and bid farewell. He closed his eyes, knowing sleep would come sooner than Alexander would.

It was almost dawn when he was awoken by a weight on the bed as Alexander placed a sloppy kiss on his cheekbone. Alexander was very drunk and he dropped down onto the bed beside him. "I've come to rub your back," he said with a silly grin.

"Idiot," Hephaestion said, and pulled the covers over Alexander against the night chill. Alexander's eyes glazed over and he raised a hand clumsily to touch a strand of Hephaestion's hair.

"I do love you," Alexander mumbled. His head dropped onto the bed and his eyes closed as Hephaestion watched him. Hephaestion laid his own head back down on his pillow and closed his eyes, a small smile on his lips as he felt the warm weight of Alexander sleeping comfortably against his back.


End file.
